


Two of Nine

by eventidexilluminations



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Borg Castiel, Captain Dean, F/M, M/M, Star Trek: Voyager - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eventidexilluminations/pseuds/eventidexilluminations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I speak for the Borg," was a hell of a pick up line if there ever was one, but Captain Dean Winchester of the Federation Starship Salvation heard and experienced a lot of new things in his time in the Delta Quadrant, this experience just happened to have a little more oomph behind it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two of Nine

**Author's Note:**

> So, this happened;;
> 
> I was watching Voyager and I don't know, it just really struck me as something I could write about and watching Seven of Nine try and come to terms with her humanity, her individuality stood out to me, why not write an AU about it with Castiel trying to do the same, it seemed like it fit. 
> 
> This entire thing goes from the beginning of season four to the end of the series and then some, it's kind of more like a memoir type thing from Dean's view than anything else, touches important parts of how it came to be, things of that sort. Or maybe it's just me rambling;;
> 
> I made it one chapter because I'm honestly not sure how many people want to read this or would be interested in having it be a multi-chapter thing. 
> 
> The name of his ship, I ended up looking through episode titles of Supernatural and chose one that sounded fitting. 
> 
> Normal things like in all my other stories, typos and such, I'll be sure to fix them and I'm sorry if I got any details wrong if you're a huge fan that is meticulous in regards to such, I can only fit so much about the series in my head and reference transcripts and all. Please comment if anything bothers you and I'll be sure to fix it to the best of my ability.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

"Two of Nine, Primary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. But you may call me Two of Nine."

If anyone told Captain Dean Winchester of the Federation Starship Salvation that was the beginning of a love story, he would probably forget the whole "respectable" aspect of being a Starfleet captain, the fact that he was in uniform, everything, and laugh, laugh until there were tears in his eyes he had to wipe away, sides aching and state, "God, _no._ It was horrible at first."

And Two of Nine would have that deadpan stare, hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back the whole time after watching him have his laughing fit, thoroughly unimpressed and turn to whoever said that with the confirmative, "Agreed."

Because, Species 8472 was kind of on their ass, in Borg space of all places, they had incapacitated Ensign Fitzgerald, and the Borg were still being dicks about how they were going to work this out, which never would be happening if they had not been hurtled 75,000 light years from the Alpha Quadrant to the Delta Quadrant.

So, yeah, great end results, he loved them and all, but that hardly meant it was all roses and romance at first or that he liked having been stranded halfway across the goddamn galaxy.

No, at first, Two of Nine was like any other Borg, stating the ever famous, "We are Borg," to almost anything asked in regards to how were they getting their information and calling them weak for being individuals, they were inefficient, disharmonious, irrational and sure, they did not have the same One Collective, One Mind deal the Borg had, but that had gotten him out of some pretty shitty situations before, his individuality and quick wit, so he liked to think he was a pretty stellar guy.

Joke was on Two of Nine, either way, after their battle with Species 8472 was over and he had claimed that "Resistance is futile," because _boy,_ like that was new to hear, Charlie had distracted the drone long enough to incapacitate him and was the first drone they knew of to be severed from the Collective in this particular way. Good thing, right? Give someone back their freedom, their free will, individuality, one might be grateful.

Two of Nine being stunned after struggling in Cargo Bay Two, shouting, "No! We are Borg! _We are Borg!"_ was definitely not gratitude.

Dean found out later on, after searching through the Registry Archive Personnel Database that Two of Nine's "designation" was actually Castiel Novak and judging by the records, he was twenty-four years old and only maybe five or six when he was assimilated, which sounded terrible, to have individuality taken away like that, purged of humanity, so young, and know nothing but the Collective. Resistance, by that token, was going to be expected, though it hardly meant he was going to be easy on the guy, especially if he was still trying to contact the Borg and risk his crew.

Not long after that, he tried to reach out again and it seemed like he got through, after some refusal, denial and a kind of bad break down when seeing the PADD with his picture as a child and information because the "One voice," aspect was screwing with him, he honestly believed he could not function and it was sad to see, the freed drone had no idea what he was doing, what was what, it was scaring the hell out of him.

But, well, he had come to accept his fate, on this ship, the Federation Starship Salvation–like _that_ was not hilariously fitting–the doctor removed all the Borg technology he could and, as he said, "managed to balance functionality and aesthetics in a pleasing enough manner," and "stimulated hair follicles." Two of Nine looked as human as he did, unruly dark mop of hair and stubble, bright blue eyes, tan skin and deemed it, "Acceptable." The only things that made it blatant and were visible at a glance that he used to be a drone were the ocular implant above his left eye, another implant by his right ear and on his left hand, where he knew the assimilation tubules came out of, he had seen them a few times when Two of Nine had found it necessary to use for the sake of a mission, to protect Salvation and her crew. He also apparently had mechanical ribs or something, which sounded cool if not for why he had them, and they were easily seen through the form fitting shirt he was first given to wear, something about it making regeneration of his skin simpler.

What Dean found the most interesting and again, a little sad, was that Two of Nine refused any other designation but Two of Nine. Calling him Two was "imprecise but acceptable," though anyone be damned if they tried and call him Castiel, they might provoke him enough to have the guy single-handedly throw them out of an airlock or beam them into space, not something he would want to happen or deal with, honestly.

Another thing he hated to deal with was when Two would make him want to throw the guy out of an airlock, always doing things that disobeyed direct orders, speaking out of turn and apparently, for a Borg drone that had years of experience following orders, he sucked at being under a command hierarchy that followed Starfleet protocols since it was "inefficient," so he would "not comply" and more than once, someone on the bridge told him sensors were off or power was being drained somewhere and without fail, almost every single time, he would make his way down to Engineering or Astrometrics and there he was, tinkering with his ship's systems and not batting an eyelash when he would tell him that he needed authorisation for this.

"It is inefficient. It needed to be improved," was always the answer he got and he was ready to pull his hair out before taking a deep breath to explain why this was not acceptable so just please put his ship back together the way it was. Two would always stare at him, with those wide unblinking eyes, then look back at the console, work on it after telling him, "Acknowledged," and as soon as he was done, strut right out like nothing had happened.

It was freaking maddening.

Not to say that the guy did not have good traits, he did. Struggling with humanity, he often did come to Dean with the now usual, "I require your assistance," and try to explain himself and the situation that was troubling him. When he did, he often squinted as he was trying out new words, new phrases, too foreign to roll off his tongue naturally or for him to grasp right away. Compassion was irrelevant, anger was irrelevant, any and all emotions were irrelevant as a drone and living most of his life as one, the sudden slap to his face with them confused him immensely and he would almost always come to him to try and figure out what it was and what he should do about it.

Dean felt good about that.

It meant the guy trusted him, that he trusted he would not lead him astray, even once calling him his "guide towards becoming an individual," and he would like to think that, for all that it was worth, as much as he gave Two, the other gave him quite a bit in return. His newfound sense of humanity, of individuality made it so he was, in a sense, not as tainted as he could have been, unlike some people who were after years of living and ingrained biases and such. Yeah, Two often looked bored and unimpressed with new discoveries they made or species they encountered, rattling off species number so and so, assimilated by the Borg stardate whatever, which could be seen as biased, more so when he would declare that the Borg did this or that better, they were one, more efficient.

Yet, he was indifferent about things otherwise, kept working on understanding moral rights and wrongs, working on his social skills with the doctor–a lot of the bridge crew found it entertaining that a hologram would be his teacher–and a few times, he managed to grab Dean right as he fell over the edge, yank him back up and slap some sense into him. Not like, literally or anything, there were simply a few times where he made decisions he now saw were in violation of a person's or species' given rights or not something he would have ever even thought of doing five years ago, before being transported here by the Caretaker.

And the scary part was, no one else on the crew would do this, when he made a choice, that was it, set in stone, no argument. Some tried, Charlie always did, duties of a First Officer, and at times, she was relieved of duty when she pressed too hard because no, his way was it, nothing else. Two never backed down, he marched right into his quarters or ready room, hour be damned with a firm, "Captain, I must speak with you," launching into his appeal even if he did not answer and for words exchanged, it got pretty heated and the other did not hesitate in getting in his personal space.

"I will not assist in the destruction of this species. You speak of Starfleet protocols, the Prime Directive, but you fail to see the error of your ways. I have always believed that you were my guide in understanding individuality, yet how can you be so, when you fail to acknowledge other's lives when it is convenient for you? It is a curious thing, Captain, that you would choose to disregard them in such a manner and give the reason you have. They are not so different than I. Will you abandon me, as you are them, when it becomes convenient?"

That had stung so of course the only thing that came to mind was, "You have your orders, Two, _don't_ make me have to confine you to the cargo bay for this and have someone take your place," and the man had glared at him, eyes narrowed, voice unwavering.

_"I will not comply."_

Probably one of the more strenuous arguments that screwed with whatever their relationship was and it made enough of an impact that he did think long and hard about what was said, deciding to retract his initial choice and listen to Charlie.

Humanity, then, that was cool and all, he was helping, he was giving help and one thing he realised quickly enough was that after adapting to life on Salvation, there was nothing he would not do for the sake of protecting the ship and crew. Like, when they had to go into stasis units until they cleared a nebula filled with subnucleonic radiation and Two only had the doctor for companionship. He was concerned, rightfully so, that Two might not take it well, he was used to hundreds of thousands, millions or more voices, the entire Collective, dropping from one hundred fifty then to one person was going to be too much. Two's answer was, "I will adapt," with no room for protest and they had gone along with it.

The whole thing seemed like a blink of an eye to him, being in stasis, a medical report and personal rendition from Two said otherwise. The poor guy had started losing his mind towards the end, seeing and hearing things, people, he almost died, too, trying to get them out of the nebula since he rerouted all the power from life support to keep the stasis chambers functional. And of course, after it all, when Dean asked how he was doing, he had the same neutral expression and response of, "I am undamaged."

If he saw him interacting with Sammy, Charlie, Garth and Jess, hearing him tell them he "felt the need for companionship," well, he never said a word.

For a guy who often said compassion is irrelevant, emotions are irrelevant, that it only clouded judgement, made one ineffective, he was pretty chock full of them, the captain mused. Because, if he was not, if he really did not care, then he never would have entered his ready room, talked with him for awhile and with the upmost sincerity, never breaking eye contact, confided in him that, "Salvation is my collective now." And he never would have stayed on that Borg cube they transported onto for a transwarp coil, claiming he was rejoining the Collective, that they would all be assimilated if they did not leave and insist he go whilst looking so concerned and openly torn about how he might take this betrayal. Most certainly, he never would have touched little six year old Anna's heart so much so that she came to him with a formal proposal written up on how to rescue him.

Who did that when emotions were irrelevant?

Therefore, it was a risk he took, that close friends of Two's took, to rescue him from the Borg. Hell, he even came face to face with the Borg Queen herself and threatened to blow her to Kingdom come. That was all done for Two because despite how he admitted that he was certain they were not going to go looking for him after all he had done, he was still a member of his crew, this crew was like a family, they were all they had in this new quadrant, Salvation was their home away from home and it was time for him to come home.

Simple, really.

Around the time it stopped being so simple was when Two had entered his quarters the moment he was coming out of the shower, with only a towel around his waist and scared the crap out of him with his normal, "Captain, I must speak with you."

"Jesus! Two, there's a thing called announcing yourself."

"My apologies. I have entered your quarters. Now, I must speak with you regarding a personal matter."

"Can't you wait until I'm dressed? There's probably some regulation that doesn't allow this."

Two examined him up and down before returning his gaze back to his face, "As it has been stated before, I am not officially Starfleet. And, your state of undress is irrelevant. As a drone, I have seen-"

"Yeah, okay, _thank you,_ but I'd rather not hear about various states of undress of countless species. What's on your mind?"

Two kept his eyes on him then dropped down momentarily, he could almost see the gears in his brain turning, "Your presence is required tonight," a pause as his eyes squinted, "Incorrect. Your presence is requested tonight, nineteen hundred hours, holodeck one."

"Holodeck one? Have a new simulation for the slipstream?"

Two had not yet given up on trying to adapt the technology to Salvation and he appreciated that, it would get them home in about a blink of an eye, which meant more considering he was aware the other was not thrilled at the prospect of getting back to Earth and was doing it for the sake of the crew.

"No. Dinner."

"Dinner?"

"The consumption of nutritional biomatter."

 _"Yes,_ I know what the consumption of nutritional biomatter is, Two, I do it three times a day. Are you asking me to join you?"

This was new.

"Correct. State your response."

Dean looked over the other, brow arched. He had started eating actual food lately, not merely nutritional supplements, although he never would go to the holodeck for it, that was an "unproductive use of time." And he never doubted the other was not serious, his jokes were usually dry and he had to state it was a joke when people got uncomfortable about it–because being told Salvation was not ready to be assimilated yet as a joke to diffuse a tense situation kind of backfired–so he lacked the humour to do this. It was hardly funny either, more a little confusing and a curve ball.

What did he have to lose?

"Yeah, alright. Nineteen hundred hours."

He thought he saw Two's shoulders relax a little and relief flicker across his face, maybe that was just him seeing things because he gave the same short nod he always did, expression impassive.

"Please be punctual."

Before he walked out, he seemed to catch himself on something.

"Borg algorithms would maximise the efficiency of your quarter's security, to provide you with the privacy you desire."

Dean grinned, "I'll keep that in mind, Two."

What he quickly learnt, or rather what was solidified even further, was that Two had not yet grasped socialising or conventional manners. Dean had made it to the holodeck first when Two had walked in, for once in casual attire and it was a nice little restaurant they were in, fancy with wine and all.

"You look good, Two."

"Thank you. You look… good, as well. Where is our designated location?"

He was trying, though.

"Best seats in the house. Wine?"

"Synthehol impairs my cortical function. Water will suffice."

There went that. The memory was still pretty vivid in his mind because it was just so different from how Two acted and it was all thanks to one measly glass of champagne before the man was staring at his left hand in complete bafflement, then smiling at the doctor when he was trying to him Sickbay, patting the hologram's chest fervently and declaring, "We are as one. We are as one." It was kind of adorable to see him like that and there was no one around to tell, the doctor was at the piano but that was it.

Oh well.

"Server, report to this station. We require your assistance."

Well, again, he was trying. Might help if he did not sound so demanding and scare the one taking their order. Or if he knew what to do with the food they were served instead of look at it clinically.

"This creature has an exoskeleton."

"It's a lobster, Two. It's a delicacy, back on earth, just dig in."

Maybe he should have specified because the guy grabbed onto the lobster and ripped the thing in half like it was nothing, parts of its "exoskeleton" and meat splattering everywhere. Azures looked down at the two halves and mess made, carefully setting down the pieces.

"This delicacy is… fragile."

Dean laughed before bringing up his lobster, "Here, I'll show you. It's simple once you get the hang of it." It went pretty smoothly from there, if one excluded when they were trying to dance and Two accidentally clocked him in the face and wow, he would really hate to have been hit by him when he was still a drone.

"You are damaged."

"Nah. I'm good, nothing the doc can't fix."

"I have failed."

The other did not look so much dismayed as he said this when they were in Sickbay more than frustrated that he could not follow simple instructions on how to do this.

"You haven't failed. It's like the lobster is all, takes practice."

"Are you proposing more interactive lessons? The doctor's lessons have proven insufficient."

He maybe should have thought through the implications of what that meant and asked the doctor what exact set of social skills Two was attempting to hone, to their entirety, before answering, "Sure, if that'll help." Two stared at him, same wide eyes and not giving away a thing, nodding curtly.

"Understood. I will create the appropriate routine and submit it for your approval."

And he walked right out and Dean had no idea what he had gotten into. Sure, he did when Two brought him a PADD with the proposed routine, stood there as he read, hands clasped behind his back, and unfazed when he was gaping at him.

"Two, you know I'm all for helping you embrace your individuality, but this…"

"Is there an error in the routine? I have selected times that do not interfere with our duties and allowed sufficient time for your own personal recreational activities."

"No. Thanks for that, that's thoughtful of you, though… I mean, did you really have to put _'copulation'_ at the end?"

"Lesson fifty-nine, intimate relationships. The doctor has emphasised the importance of this activity."

The captain was a little at a loss of what to say, this bluntness about relationships–sexual relationships, even–should be expected and left him no less stumped.

"Okay, how about… we take our time with these lessons and just… see where we go? You can't rush it, put it on a schedule, there's got to be like a connection and stuff, emotionally and… well, humans don't plan it so meticulously."

Two arched his eyebrow, the way he always did when questioning the customs of humans he found ineffective, ocular implant rising with the action until he seemed to give up on trying to understand why humans did anything they did.

"Understood."

"You're dismissed."

So in between potential hull breaches, warp core overloads, Borg encounters and attacks, they had these "lessons." What Two also had, after an encounter with straggler of a Borg cube, were four children to look after that would have otherwise died as neonatal drones. Only one had remained, a Brunali named Hael that he could swear up and down did not impair his judgement, anyone else on the crew would say yes, Two was fiercely protective of her and the Borg were threatening, formidable, but God help them or anyone else if they so much as upset Hael or said an unkind word.

Dean had seen this happen only once, Two had come out of Astrometrics and blown right by him, lips set in that hard line that he knew meant someone pissed him off majorly, like beam them directly into space pissed, Hael following right behind, insisting, "Two, wait! It wasn't that serious!" Given this was his ship, he had to maintain order and all, not give Two any special treatment, he trailed after them into the Mess Hall, just in time to see Two approach a table, slam down a PADD to interrupt a conversation between two crewmen and demand:

"State your intentions for these false observations."

It had all kind of gone downhill from there and he had to wedge himself in between them before security was called, hand on Two's chest, "Two, Astrometrics, now."

"Captain-"

"That's an order."

Azures bore into him and he let out a soft huff through his nose before walking off. What it turned out to be was a very crude thing, these "false observations" and they disappointed him because he liked to think that every member of his crew knew better than that. Despite his chumminess with the crew, he was still captain, he still set the example and yeah, he might not rule with the normal iron fist or whatever, but being stuck in the Delta Quadrant would be even more maddening if he isolated from the crew, not to mention how it would mean a plummet in moral.

In any case, he had promised Two he would reprimand the two crewmen appropriately, the man had demanded they write up formal apologies to Hael, something he said yes to, and he had stared at him before turning to the console to show him something, "Sensors are showing an intermittent graviton flux approximately five light years away…" and he listened on, smiling a little because the man had come so far already, it was commendable.

Whilst they had all these lessons and Dean knew he was not as objective and clinical as he should have been when Two asked him to rate his proficiency of a particular lesson, that he might have been digging himself in too deep, it never became absolutely clear what he thought and felt until one particular case that Two called lesson forty. The lesson before that had his hand hurting because although the other knew he had superior strength, he often miscalculated how much a normal human hand could take and had thusly crushed his hand when he first took it, might have kept doing it if he did not tell him.

That, that was okay, no harm done.

Lesson forty, however, was kissing and okay, he was cool with it, kind of nervous since the guy never kissed anyone so he would be his first experience with it and he even asked him if he was certain he wanted to do that with him and not someone else. Two squinted at him and stated, "You are the ideal candidate on this ship." Alright, as good a confession and all he would get from him, he briefly considered it would really suck if Two had miscalculated the force of a kiss, accidentally broke his nose or something. On the contrary, he was surprisingly gentle with this, like he was uncertain how to go about it or what to do with his hands or body, just standing there and Dean pulled away to show him, pausing to ask if he heard anything and getting a no for an answer.

So, kissing, yeah, it was nice.

At least, it was until he heard that zizzing noise again even louder and Two had dropped like a sack of potatoes, electricity playing over his ocular implant and Dean had never hit his comm. badge so fast, "Sickbay, medical emergency!"

Kissing turned out to be not so fun when he realised it was killing the guy. Not kissing, per say, but any sort of "emotional stimulation" strong enough to trigger his cortical node to shut down and he felt horrible, once Two had regained consciousness and was told this. Because the guy looked so confused and then angry about how even disconnected from the hive mind, it did this to him and he sounded so desperate for a positive answer when he asked, "Can you repair me?" Like he was broken, something he had heard him say way back in the beginning, that he was neither human nor Borg, just… broken, imperfect, all these negative things.

The prospect of all the surgery and recovery time he would need were not favourable to him, he declined it and the EMH left them to speak.

"I wish to redefine the parameters of our relationship."

"I'm guessing this is how you tell me 'it's not you, it's me?'"

"An old earth saying, but accurate. I have experienced enough humanity for the time being, this fail-safe will ensure I am an efficient member of the crew and no longer distracted."

"Two, you know I'll respect your choice, but you weren't ever inefficient during this time, you need to know that."

The man had dropped his stare, looked to the side then back at him, same steel eyed gaze he used to cover everything up.

"I must regenerate."

Dean could not say he walked out of his life, they were on a ship, that was impossible, and he kind of wished they did have the capacity to walk right out to well, anywhere. He was captain, however, he had to remain strong, make the hard decisions, do everything a captain was meant to do and if he maybe, sort of ached when Two would make his reports or speak to him with that detachment from before, that was something to deal with when he was off duty, could not let it bother him and eventually, after two months, it was another drop in the pool of pain, guilt and all the bad things he told himself not to think about.

Two months, he said, since the third month, in his quarters and ready for bed, the doors had suddenly opened, he did not even hear the doorbell, Two silently stepping inside. Setting down his book and getting up from his chair, he got as far as, "Two, what can I-" before the male strode right up to him and without a care in the world, grabbed his sleep shirt and pulled him into a kiss that, thankfully, did not break anything.

"I have been told by the doctor that anticipation for the first kiss is often uncomfortable for humans. The tension is now relieved."

He had already stepped back, hands behind his back, and Dean stared openly, probably looked like a moron, taking awhile before he finally found his words.

"Uh, thanks. For, relieving that. Mind filling me in, though? What happened to redefining the parameters?"

"The threat has been neutralised. We may resume our lessons."

Dean blinked.

"Okay… well, I'm happy to hear that, now you can explore more of your humanity and all. Just, one thing. If we're going to do this, it's not going to be 'interactive lessons' only."

"Clarify."

"You and me, we're going to be a couple, in a relationship, dating, romantically involved, emotional connections, you get what I'm trying to say?"

Two observed him, eyes squinted and gave a curt nod.

"Understood. We are now a… couple."

This was good.

"Remove your clothes."

That was surprising.

_"What?"_

"Couples engage in intimate relationships, copulation."

Two was already grabbing the hem of his own shirt, the sliver of tan skin and hipbones he saw leaving him scrambling to grab the man's hands and firmly keep his shirt on, earning him an arched eyebrow.

"Captain?"

"Let's… it's not so cut and dry, Two, remember?"

The former drone looked down at their hands, eyes narrowed as he processed and nodded.

"It's a… 'see where we go, connection and stuff,' activity."

The captain chuckled at how he quoted what he had told him in the beginning and how it looked like he ate something sour as he tried the phrasing out, "See? Already getting it, that's great. Now, how about you tell me what the doc did about your cortical node?"

"The doctor was able to reconfigure the microcircuitry by way of…"

A couple, then.

Not something he saw coming in a million years, though a lot of things had changed in the seven years they were in the Delta Quadrant and he had seen a lot of things he might not have thought possible. The thing that still threw him for a little of a loop was when a freaking rift opened right before Salvation, with a Federation shuttle flying out of it that hailed them, only to find it was an older version of himself.

Time travel, he was never going to come close to understanding it.

Another thing he was never going to understand was how this older version of him–Admiral Winchester, now–was even him. No way he would turn out to be this cynical and inconsiderate person, there was absolutely no way. And with the Temporal Prime Directive to be mindful of, he could not listen to anything he was saying, could not mess with the timelines, although he did take him to Sickbay to confirm this was him. Sadly, it was, and Two had walked in as he was receiving this news, his future self had tensed and stared without an ounce of shame.

"Two… hey."

Two had nodded once, "Admiral," then looked at him, "Captain, the technology aboard the Admiral's ship has been designed to defend against the Borg. We are unable to adapt the stealth technology to Salvation. However, the armour and weapons are compatible."

The next time he had seen Two was in the Sickbay again, though this time he was the one on the biobed, the doctor telling him and his older self that an EM surge had been sent through his cortical node during a regeneration cycle. This did not seem to bother Two any, he was "repaired" and ready to explain the reason behind it.

"It was the Borg Queen, she has a message. If we attempt to re-enter the nebula, she will have everyone aboard Salvation assimilated."

Time after that, following an attempt into the nebula, Two had beamed into his ready room, a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he held out for him to take, "I did not believe walking into the captain's ready room with flowers would be without questions." Dean took the flowers and found a place to put them, the other having picked up enough now to come up to him after and press a light kiss to his lips, eyes narrowed at him, head canting ever so slightly, "You are troubled."

"Yeah, kind of comes with the ship and big decisions."

"The Admiral, his presence unsettles you, as do his words," following the nod, Two eyed the PADD he had been looking over before walking over and picking it up, "You are captain of Salvation in the present, in our time. This crew entrusts their lives to you, believes you will make the right choice. His ranking and presence aboard Salvation are irrelevant. Your brother, Charlie, Jessica, no one will disobey your orders and follow his. Gadreel will escort him to the brig before he causes any damage if necessary," the PADD was given to him, hand over his, and he felt the familiar cool of the Borg implants which he never ever thought would be something he would associate with good yet here he was, "Review the data gathered in Astrometrics, I will attempt to find a way to destroy the hub and get Salvation back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Man after my own heart, aren't you?"

Two had already moved towards the doors, pausing to look over his shoulder at him, an almost indiscernible quirk of his lips before he exited and in came his future self, exactly on time, who immediately looked to the flowers.

"Why didn't you tell me about this, that we might be able to cripple the Borg?"

"Because you wouldn't listen to me if I did, I know you, you'd go off and do something stupid."

Arguing with himself was something he never thought he would do and it was something he would rather never have to do again, it was tiresome and frankly, he refused to believe they were the same person, there was no way he would ignore what this might mean, what he could do to the Borg, all the lives he could save.

"Two of Nine is going to die!"

Dean still did not find it justifiable what he was proposing, even as his older self explained what was going to happen to Two in three years and he did not need that graphic detail, and he even mentioned Gadreel having some degenerative disease that would get the better of him unless they got him to his family. He did go to Gadreel to confirm, told that it would be fine, that they needed to destroy the hub, it was the logical choice.

Not long after Gadreel left, he heard the comm. come on and heard Two's voice.

"Admiral. Is there something you require?"

Whether this was deliberately done was uncertain at first, listening to his older self go on the same way he did for him–he had tossed the Temporal Prime Directive out the airlock–and try and convince Two what he could not convince him of, to talk to him and change his mind.

"Your candour is refreshing, Admiral. However, Captain Winchester is my commanding officer, his orders stand. What you request, I cannot comply."

"Can't or won't, Two? This is going to save your life!"

"An irrelevant distinction, Admiral, my decision has been made. You have stated that I am injured fatally on an away mission, yet by telling me, this is no longer a certainty. Regardless if it was, my life is a small price to pay for the millions of lives that would be saved when the transwarp network is destroyed."

What he was saying, he was proud of him, he had learnt so much and whilst he was not thrilled at the idea of Two being killed–terrified, honestly–he was glad to see loyalty. It had cut off eventually and they had gone through the old song and dance, figuring out what to do, finding another way that his older self had finally found that an optimal solution that also got the to the Alpha Quadrant, it was all good.

At least, until he entered Astrometrics and Two was giving him the cold shoulder.

"Two, what's this really about? Simple and to the point, that's what you like, so just tell me."

The man had turned away from the console to face him in record time, same hard line of his lips that he no longer believed was anything but a front he put up.

"It is best to avoid emotional attachments, with our occupations. Information divulged by the Admiral has reminded me of this, I cannot allow you to be in pain because of me."

Dean sighed, "Two, relationships aren't without risk. You, me, future me, not a single one of us can predict what's going to happen and there's not enough information in the galaxy that you can assimilate to do that. So, I'm not going to take that 'redefine our parameters' again, alright?"

Two clenched his jaw, not breaking his stare like that would make him change his mind and it was a damn feat to get him to relent, huffing softly through his nose.

"Understood."

The captain pecked his lips and smiled, "Good. Now, we're going to blow this thing up, get home, and we're going to have a fancy dinner in a real restaurant to celebrate."

A brow arched, "We would first need to be debriefed and follow protocols."

"Details, Two, small details."

Small details that turned out to be pretty time consuming, to be honest. It was a rough ride and kind of a close call but there it was, glorious Earth, Federation starships, the Borg were behind them all, it was amazing. A huge hullabaloo was made about their returning home, ceremonies, promotions, the great and magnificent celebration of Salvation's return from the Delta Quadrant.

Life was pretty great after that, he thought. Sammy and Jess had an in-between quadrant's baby, his crew was reunited with their families, everyone was good.

Except, Two of Nine, he seemed uncomfortable with the whole thing, telling him more than once that crowds made him uneasy, it brought up unpleasant memories and more often than not, he did not leave the house, kept company by Hael when she did not leave either. Having been a neonatal drone, Hael adapted more easily, though she was attached to her new adoptive father, so staying with him was not an issue.

But, after it all died down, with Hael attending the academy, Two seemed to adapt, save a few times when they went out and people would be thrown off by his implants or blunt nature. All good, he managed and hey, he was even able to eat a lobster now without tearing the thing in half and could partake in "beguiling banter."

Not the average love story type deal then, which really did not matter to him, he was happy, Two and Hael were happy, Sammy and Jess and little Mary were happy, everyone was happy, the years went by. And he was indeed very, very happy when he walked into the house, only to find the other setting down a plate.

"Two, what'd you make?"

"I researched popular cuisine on Earth, these are hamburgers."

"What's the occasion?"

Two took his hand, kissed him, and led him to the table, eyes squinted already, jaw clenching and unclenching.

"It is… human custom, to celebrate certain milestones in a relationship. This was the day I requested your presence on the holodeck. And…" a moment was taken to put together everything he wanted to say, "I believe that I have… grasped individuality sufficiently, thus I should… should embrace my human name."

More than one milestone and Dean grinned at that.

"Alright. Whatever you want."

"It is what I want. Two of Nine is still… I would still like to be referred as such by others."

"Awh, way to make a guy feel special." The admiral chuckled before leaning in to kiss him, arms going around the man, "One thing, though?"

"Specify."

"I love you, Castiel."

Castiel canted his head ever so slightly, eyes squinted and lips twitching up soon after.

"I love you, Dean."

Very rare to hear those three words, it was thrilling every time.

"Now, how about those burgers?"

**Author's Note:**

> Have a lovely rest of your day! c:


End file.
